


First Dates

by millijayne13



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, First Dates, Fluff, Good Draco Malfoy, Healer Draco Malfoy, Mutual Pining, Romance, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:34:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26898280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/millijayne13/pseuds/millijayne13
Summary: I'd like to request a blurb for your celebration. Draco, Blind Date AU, fluff 11, (I can't remember the number but it's smth like "are are you flirting with me?") and misc 5. Location I guess either Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley? I don't really mind which location, so I'm leaving that up to you💕a First Dates AU with Draco Malfoy.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Original Female Character(s), Draco Malfoy/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 30





	First Dates

**Author's Note:**

> I have wanted to write this for so long. This is originally posted on my Tumblr: @iliveiloveiwrite
> 
> WARNINGS: mentions of food and alcohol, swearing, mutual pining and healer draco bc I love writing him.
> 
> Feedback is so important!! Please leave a kudos or a comment if you liked!!

Truthfully, you sent the application off on a night where you were feeling particularly lonely with only your television and a bottle of wine for company. You never expected a phone call a month later asking you to take part in the very TV show you had binge-watched the night of filling out the application.

A rush of adrenaline overtook you; it had you confirming your willingness to take part on the show to the producer on the other end. It had you grinning like someone with a secret as you started to plan the outfit in your head as you rang off with the producer.

Now, six weeks later, you find yourself wandering through muggle London to the restaurant. The wind was cold against your bare legs, but you gritted your teeth against the chill, opening the door to the restaurant and greeting the famous maître d with a smile. 

“Are they already here?” You ask nervously as he takes your coat.

His French accent shines as he replies, “He’s already at the bar.”

“Thank you,” You answer; turning your full attention to the bar and feeling something akin to dread settle in your stomach.

Hair that blonde only belonged to one man; one you hadn’t seen since the catastrophic battle that left so many dead and injured.

It would seem that fate is happy to continue playing her games; throwing a rogue Draco Malfoy into your path to see how far it throws you off course or whether it helps you carve your own way of life.

With a deep breath, you make your way to the bar. As if knowing his date has arrived, Draco turns, meeting your gaze. “That’s one face I didn’t think I would see again. (Y/N),” Draco drawls, standing from his stool, “How are you?”

You smile politely towards the blonde, “Draco, I’m good, thank you. How are you?”

He gestures to the empty stool next to him. You slide onto the stool as Draco answers, “I’ve been well.”

“Gin and tonic, please,” You say to the waiting bartender who smiles politely

“So you two know each other?” The bartender prompts; handing you your gin and tonic. A distant memory flashes in your mind – loud music, the overbearing smell of firewhisky, Draco’s mouth on yours. It had only ever been the one kiss; one that you remembered so perfectly, but one that Draco made look like it never happened.

You smile at the poor attempt at conversation; gesturing between Draco and yourself, “We went to school together many years ago.”

The bartenders nods, “And were you friends?”

Draco takes a sip of his lager; letting you answer, “We didn’t run in the same circle, but we had a friendship of sorts.”

The bartender nods once again; diverting his attention to stocking up clean glasses for future customers. You watch him for a second; the mundane activity distracting you from your purpose tonight.

Shaking yourself out of your reverie, you turn your attention back to Draco, “How long has it been since we saw each other?”

Draco whistles, “I think close to six or seven years now.”

You nod; sipping at your gin and tonic, enjoying the tart taste, “It doesn’t feel like that long.”

Draco smiles, “It doesn’t. It feels like just yesterday I was annoying you in the library.”

You roll your eyes, “That was never an isolated incident; you always annoyed me in the library.”

Draco chuckles, “That I did.”

His attention shifts from the conversation to the figure approaching you both from behind. He smiles at the waitress; greeting her respectfully as she declares your table to be ready.

Grabbing your drink, you follow the waitress to your table, Draco following you close behind. Menus are placed on tables as you both sit down across from each other; you’ve been seated at a small table in a quieter area of the restaurant. Looking around, you can see how the restaurant makes the perfect setting for a first date – the homely size tied with the Mediterranean décor created an atmosphere that only promoted intimacy.

Quiet settles over the both of you as you read through the menus. You try to focus all of your attention on the dishes being served, but your eyes wander to the blonde-haired man sitting across from you. It really had been an age since you had seen him last, but he had aged well. Stubble graced his jawline; defining his bone structure even further. Through Hogwarts, Draco had always been lanky. He shot up in height through Third and Fourth Year and his body had only started to catch up in width at the end of Seventh Year. Now, however, he had filled out nicely. You couldn’t help but admire the visible muscles underneath his obviously tailored black suit jacket – his signature colour.

“Are you checking me out?” Draco asks; eyes filled with mirth and mischief.

Your mouth drops open; you close it before bringing the menu up to shield your face, “Of course not.”

“Are you sure? I felt your eyes all over me.”

You huff, “I wasn’t checking you out… I was simply taking note of how long it had been since I’ve seen you. A long time has passed since we were eighteen, Draco.”

Draco smirks, “So you were checking me out.”

You roll your eyes, “Fine. For argument’s sake, I was checking you out. Happy now?”

“Much,” Draco mouths as he returns his attention back to the menu laid out in front of him.

The waitress reappears not long after; taking your orders and promising fresh drinks as she smiles in goodbye.

The butterflies in your stomach start to settle as you watch the waitress walk away. Draco had always been the one to evoke such a reaction from you. There had never been someone who affected you the way Draco Malfoy did. He’d always been a prat; straight from the beginning of Hogwarts, but as he grew older, he began to mellow out. He was relentless towards Harry Potter and his friends as well as the younger years, but when the two of you shared a conversation, he was gentler – soft-spoken and small smiles. It endeared you to the point that you had to admit to yourself that you harboured quite the crush on the Slytherin Prince.

Sitting here, however, with him across from you, you remember how you felt all those years ago and you want to berate yourself for ever thinking it was a silly crush. Looking at him now, it’s not hard to see why you fell for such a man.

You can’t help but smile as you ask, “Why did you apply to the show?”

Draco smiles sheepishly, “I didn’t.”

“What?” You ask; gobsmacked.

“The Head Nurse at St. Mungo’s got sick of me turning down her offers of blind dates, so she applied here for me.”

You snort into your drink, “That’s the best thing I’ve heard all night.”

“I think I can top that,” Draco comments; a smirk gracing his lips and a challenge in his voice.

You raise an eyebrow, humouring him, “How?”

Draco coughs; clearing his throat to prepare himself, “I should have said this when I first saw you walk through the door, but you look absolutely stunning tonight. I swear you took my breath away…” He pauses before grinning, “How did I do?”

You snort; laughter taking over your body. You push your drink away; afraid of knocking it over in your fit of giggles.

Draco watches you with wide eyes and a wide smile; feeling elated at the reaction he has brought out of you. “What?” He asks, “What did I say?”

You fan your face; cooling your heated skin, “It was so cheesy, Draco.”

Draco rolls his eyes, “I suppose it was.”

“There’s no suppose. It was so cheesy!”

Draco holds his hands up in surrender; starting to laugh with you, “Alright, it was cheesy. Can you blame me? You do look lovely, though.”

You shake your head at his flattery; feeling completely undone by him already. Folding your hands on top of each other, you ask, “Do you work at St. Mungo’s?”

He nods; running a hand across the back of his neck, “I do. I’m on the First Floor.”

You nod in reply; knowing automatically that he meant the floor of serious bites by magical creatures. “I didn’t think you would become a Healer,” You comment; eyes bright with curiosity.

Draco smiles, “I sort of fell into it. I was training to become a Professor, but I ended up catching the eye of the Head Healer at St. Mungo’s when I visited an apothecary shop. We got to talking and she urged me to apply, so I did on a whim and now five years later, here I am.”

You smile softly at him, “It sounds like a wonderful job, Draco. I’m sure your parents are proud.”

His eyes soften as he thinks of his mother and her unrelenting support, “They are. Father took some getting used to the idea, but he’s supportive now. What about you? What did you do after we left school?”

“I travelled the U.K. for a while; I couldn’t find a place to settle after everything, so I hired a car and drove around from place to place.”

Draco’s eyes widen, “Really? Where did you go?”

You bite your lip to repress the laugh bubbling up at the sound of the wonder in Draco’s voice. You wave your hand in a circle, “I went from Lands’ End to John O’Groats all the way to Ness Point in Suffolk and Lochaber in Scotland.”

Draco whistles again; sitting back in his chair. He runs a hand through his hair; pushing it back from his forehead as he asks the inevitable question, “Where was your favourite?”

You tap your finger against your cheek, “You know, everyone I’ve met has asked me that and I’ve never been able to give them a straight answer.”

“What do you mean?”

You splay your hands out on the table; stretching your fingers as wide as they can go, “Well each place I’ve been to has its own advantages and disadvantages. If you asked me for best people, I would say Yorkshire – they’re kind and their accent makes me think of Neville. However, if you asked me for the best views, I would have to say Scotland – and not just because of school. But the place I spent the most time in out of everywhere was Hay-on-Wye in Wales. Have you ever heard of it?”

At Draco’s shake of his head, you continue, “It’s a small village close to the south of Wales. It has over twenty bookshops and each year it holds a literary festival. I arrived just in time for it, and I found myself sticking around for a week or so after so I could enjoy each bookshop.”

Draco shakes his head fondly at your words. “What?” You ask; puzzled.

“Only you would find yourself in a town known for bookshops. I would only ever find you in the library at school. If you weren’t in the Great Hall or your common room, you would be in the library with Madame Pince, sorting out the new additions.”

You point at Draco playfully, “Madame Pince needed help with those books!”

Draco rolls his eyes with a smile, “You wanted first pick, admit it.”

You pout, “True, but I still wanted to help.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

Silence falls between you both as Draco appraises you; his eyes run up and down your body as you cut into your plate of food. You feel his eyes on you; feel the heaviness of his gaze, but you knew that if you looked into his grey eyes, you would have to call it a night and accept that you were likely to be a goner.

He hasn’t seen you in so long, and time had more than treated you well. Maturing you; shaping you into the person sitting before him today. His feelings for you had never truly faded; they had simply been put on the backburner. Once in a while, he would think of you. He would think of how he would sit with you in the library – the friendship stemming from there and spilling over into classrooms, corridors, and common rooms. Draco realised his feelings for you were far from platonic midway through his Sixth Year when his home life wasn’t great, and his school life was turning out to be just as bad.

You became his safe haven through that; even when he knew you were on opposing sides of the war. For a brief moment, each day, when he finally sank into whichever seat next to you – he could simply breathe and forget. You never judged him too harshly; even when he deserved it. For that; for always caring about him, he would always be grateful.

“Do you ever think about that night?” You ask timidly, out of the blue; swirling your straw around in your drink.

Draco freezes only slightly; he knows the exact night you’re referring to. One that held so much promise but wound up only widening the gap between you.

At this point in the evening, you’ve both forgotten that your date is being filmed for a television show for the main purpose of entertaining the British public on a night. Instead, you’ve reverted to how you both used to be in Hogwarts; a friendship that existed but was never given the time to develop into anything more.

Draco’s hand reaches for yours, but it stops just short of it, “You mean the night of the party?”

Refusing to meet his eyes, you nod into your drink; your stomach a bundle of nerves. Draco sighs, “I think about that night all the time.”

Your head shoots up, “You do?”

He nods, “I do.”

“But you never spoke of it again? We never spoke of it again?”

“Would you believe me if I told you I was scared?”

“Scared of what?”

“So much was happening; so much was changing. I liked the fact that we had this friendship and that I could be myself around you. When we kissed, and I woke up the next day, I wanted nothing more to talk to you about it but then,” Draco pauses, remembering that he is in fact on camera, “What happened, happened, and I couldn’t find you after to really talk to you. I know it isn’t an excuse, but it’s an explanation at least.”

“So you did want something more?” You ask; your heart settling in your throat.

Draco nods without hesitation, “I wanted something more.”

You smile at the blonde; happy and unrestrained, “I’m glad I have an answer now.”

Draco’s grin in return is mesmerising; glad to have finally had a chance to speak to you about that night. When he kissed you at the party; he was tipsy, sure, but he was sober enough to remember what had happened. He could remember every smell, taste and sound you made. The very memory had been seared into his brain; playing on repeat through the years he had been out of contact with you.

“I’m glad I could give you an answer,” Draco replies.

Plates are emptied and taken away; drinks are finished and collected. All that’s left now is to say goodbye. A pit forms in your stomach at the very thought of saying goodbye to him once again; of not seeing him for however long it may be. The dinner had been wonderful, and the conversation entertaining. The feelings you harboured for Draco only helped the evening along in any respect; the racing of your heart practically providing the soundtrack for the cameras.

Standing from the table, Draco buttons his suit jacket before he holds his hand out for you to take. A sign that he must feel the same as you; that he doesn’t want this night to end just yet and if you were feeling braver, you would suggest then and there that you sack off the cameras and return to your place for a nightcap.

But you’re not; so instead, you take his hand and let him guide you to the final portion of evening. The final piece filmed for the television show that would go out later this year. Hope blooms in your stomach at the idea of watching the show with Draco; cuddled up together on your couch. Your grip on his hand tightens almost imperceptibly as the thought and hope settle into the marrow of your bones.

The room you enter is barely big enough for four people minus the recording equipment and studio lights. Your hand tightens on Draco’s as you both take your seat. He squeezes once before letting you go; shuffling in his seat and adjusting his suit jacket – unbuttoning it for comfort’s sake.

He catches your gaze; sending a fond smile your way before turning his attention to the interviewer nestled by the now recording camera.

You blink hard against the harsh lights; smiling uncomfortably now that you’re in front of the camera.

The interviewer placed just off camera asks, “Would you two like to see each other again?”

It takes one look into his grey, grey eyes for you to answer: “Yes.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! 
> 
> Feedback is so important!! Please leave a kudos or a comment if you liked!!
> 
> Tumblr: @iliveiloveiwrite


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